Drabble Dabbles : Geronimo
by MiHnn
Summary: A series of unrelated Eleventh Doctor-centric drabbles with characters including Amy Pond, Rory Williams, River Song, Clara Oswin Oswald and more.
1. Me and My Beauty

**A/N - This is a series of un-related drabbles in the Eleventh Doctor-era. Most will be gen, pairings can and will include Eleven/River, Eleven/Amy, Amy/Rory, Eleven/Clara. I just like to have everything in one place. Most, if not all, will be canon compliant.  
**

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**Prompt:** Beauty

**Title:** Me and My Beauty

**Characters:** Eleventh Doctor, TARDIS (Idris)

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **500

**Warnings/Notes:** Written for who_contest.

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He looked at her and then looked away. Several times, he did this dance, while his fingers fumbled as he was burned; and more than once to make it all the worst. She stood a little bit away from him with a frown, calmly picking up shrapnel and studying them carefully as if they had all the time in the world.

Here was a fun fact: they _didn't_ have all the time in the world.

Still… He kept looking over at her, then looking away, his mouth opening and then closing, before a shake of his head later he was back to doing the very same thing.

"If there is something you would like to ask me, out with it," she said, her voice toneless as she continued to study the rubble in her hands.

"I always wondered…" He stopped, his hands pausing at this improbable task. "I know that your presence is _in_ the TARDIS, but I was wondering, exactly _where_ in the TARDIS do you get up to?"

She cocked her head to the side to regard him carefully, her eyes dark and full of knowledge. "Are you asking me what I have seen?"

"No, no, of course not," was his immediate response. "But, for the fun of it, what _exactly_ have you seen?"

"Everything," she said flippantly.

"Everything?" he squeaked.

"Everything."

"Blimey." That was something new to think about, wasn't it? It only takes a few hundred years to forget that you travel with someone who can see your every move. He had to be more careful after this. He couldn't let her see _everything_.

"Doctor," she said hesitantly, and he looked up, because that was what was always expected of him. Someone calls him and he looks up. "If I could talk, would you have picked up so many on the way?"

He was already knee deep in wires, half of which were so easy to forget, but he looked at her nonetheless. "I dunno," he said carefully, a frown marring his features. Always the truth; he will always speak the truth unless he felt otherwise. But then he grinned, wide and happy. "Wouldn't that be a treat? Just you and me, travelling the stars, getting into trouble on various planets. Wouldn't that be something?"

"Me and my Doctor," she said fondly, her eyes bright with barely hidden excitement.

"Always together."

"Forever."

He faltered. "Forever," he said softly before he smiled at her brilliantly. "Me and my beauty. What more could I need?"

She looked at him fondly. "Someone who talks back."

"Well, yeah, that." He looked away from her, his fingers fumbling once again with the blue wire, or was it red?

"I wish I could talk back. I know I can't, but I can wish it."

He scratched his head before he went back to the red wire. It was definitely the red wire. "Me too," he said distractedly.

He didn't see her sad smile, but he felt it. It mirrored his own.

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	2. Differences

**Prompt:** Accident

**Title:** Differences

**Characters:** Eleventh Doctor, Strax

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings/Notes:** Written for dw100

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"There was an incident, Sir."

The Doctor took off his glasses suspiciously. "What kind of incident?"

"While doing the chores, a girl got shot."

The Doctor was on his feet in panic. "What did you do?"

"As I was cleaning the revolver a bullet was let loose. It was…" Strax searched his mind for an appropriate word. "An accident, Sir."

"Oh you blundering, blithering…" The Doctor stopped just shy of strangulation.

Later, the Doctor scowled at Strax's latest victim. "It's a snowman, Strax. It can't—get—shot."

"Very good, Sir."

Strax had thought it a snow-woman capable of being shot.

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	3. What's Mine

**Prompt:** Idiots like me?

**Title:** What's Mine

**Characters:** Clara Oswald, Eleventh Doctor

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **124

**Warnings/Notes:** Written for writerverse

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"This is the problem with time travel!"

"And space travel!" the Doctor cried from the other side of the TARDIS console.

Clara sighed before saying dismissively, "And space travel. All I see are idiots. Idiots who jump from one planet to another, never staying long, never putting down roots…"

"Idiots like me?" he asked with a jovial smile.

Clara faltered as she walked towards him. "You're not an idiot. A mad man, certainly, but not an idiot."

His smile stayed on, although it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"If you are an idiot..." She yanked him down by the lapels of his coat and placed a quick kiss onto his forehead. "You're my idiot."

His grin widened as a sparkle returned to his eyes.

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	4. Long Way Around

**Prompt:** "She is bound by the laws of her country and must follow them until her days have ended."

**Title:** Long Way Around

**Characters:** River Song, Elventh Doctor

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **412

**Warnings/Notes:** Written for writerverse

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When he showed up it was with a stetson on his head and a scowl on his face. "What did she do this time?" he asked tiredly as a very large rope stayed slung over his shoulder.

The guard eyed him warily. "She stole a spaceship."

"What? _Again_?" He turned to his right, where his wife sat with her legs crossed in a very calm fashion. "Again, River? Another spaceship?"

She shrugged as a smug smile lifted the corners of her lips. "Whoops." She raised her handcuffed wrists. "You got a key for this, Sweetie?"

The guard sighed. "She is bound by the laws of her country and must follow them until her days have ended." He glared at the woman. "She knows this. And as per the laws—"

"Yes, yes, I know," the Doctor said flippantly. "I now owe your government because I gave you my word and _she_ broke it. What is it this time? Hostage negotiations? A tour with the Prince and his party? Another costume soirée? Last time became quite a pickle, that." The Doctor winced at the memory. "Didn't expect the Princess to have an ex-girlfriend from a rivalling planet. Oh, these young ones these days. They can't keep their tentacles to themselves."

The guard chose to ignore the Doctor's tirade and hand him a piece of parchment which he unrolled curiously. Once he read the contents, his eyes widened. "_River!_" He rounded on his wife. "The Rokliston Galaxy? Again? Do you have any idea how hard it is to negotiate with them? I nearly lost my pants playing poker with them."

River shrugged as she played languidly with her now detached handcuffs before she placed them carefully on the seat beside her. "What can I say?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye as she pulled down the neckline of her top scandalously low to show off the jewels that had been hidden. "I have a thing for stealing back stolen jewellery."

As the guard went about preparing her release, an eye kept suspiciously on Professor River Song for good measure, the Doctor took his seat beside her. "You could have just... called, you know, instead of letting yourself get arrested."

"I could have," she said with a mischievous grin. "But then, where's the fun in that?"

And despite the stern talking-to he had planned, he laughed happily before placing a quick, affectionate kiss onto the forehead of one mad, ridiculous, Professor River Song.

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	5. Escapism

**Prompt:** Run

**Title:** Escapism

**Characters:** Amy Pond, Eleventh Doctor

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **257

**Warnings/Notes:** Written for tvdramaland

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"Will you ever stop running?"

They are currently lying under the stars on grass so wet that it tickles behind his ear, while Amelia Pond—now Amy Pond—studies his fingers with little flicks of hers. He watches in fascination, his ankles crossed and his free arm lying limply on his chest, while his other arm that is supposed to be lying between them is bent at the elbow and taking all the attention away from the stars.

"I'm not running," he says defensively. Because, he's not. He can't be.

"Hm." She places her hand under his, palm against palm, fingers entwining then releasing while her thumb strokes the indentation between his thumb and index finger with a gentle caress. "You're a man in a box," she says, her voice soft but stern. "You're running."

He lifts his eyes to look at hers and watches her as she watches their hands, her eyes wide and fascinated of an act so small. "Well, you're a woman in a box," he says, using her logic. "What are you running from?"

She doesn't answer. Or she chooses not to answer. She lets his hand go instead and sits up swiftly before telling him sternly that he promised to show her a planet.

He watches her leave, disappearing into that blue box of his before he studies the place where her hand had touched his. He traces the path that she traced and counts the seconds of the touch in his mind.

And maybe he was running. Maybe he needs to.

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**Christmas Gift Giveaway 2013**

**.**

It's that time of year again!

I'll be gifting fics to anyone who requests one for the 24 days leading up to Christmas day. Send me a PM with **fandom**, **pairing** (if there is one), **prompt** (quote, pic, song, situation etc), a date (if you have a preference) and I will write a drabble between 100 - 700 words for you.

The link to the main post can be found on my profile page. You can either comment onto that post or send me a PM through this site.

Geronimo!


	6. The Ballad of Amelia Pond

**A/N:** For those who are unfamiliar with musical theory... An instrumental ballad is part of the romantic genre of classical music and it sounds very pretty and full of life. A rest is an interval of silence.

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**Prompt:** Rest

**Title:** The Ballad of Amelia Pond

**Characters:** Amy Pond, Eleventh Doctor

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **500

**Warnings/Notes:** Written for who_contest

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"Not going to another alien planet, then?" she had asked him once. "Another boring day in the TARDIS?"

"_Boring_?" the Doctor asked, so completely and utterly offended. "The TARDIS is never boring."

She gave him a look that said she didn't believe him. The Doctor shifted on his seat, his fingers running over the grand piano effortlessly, playing the Scherzo No. 2 with such skill that he impressed himself. He stopped playing after twelve bars, lifting his arms with a flourish as he looked up with a wide grin. Like everyone before her, it was only right that Amy gush over his nimble fingers and perfect sense of rhythm. What he saw was an unimpressed Amy leaning against the instrument.

"Can we go to an alien planet now?"

The Doctor's ego deflated. "Amy," he began in that tone he reserved just to chastise her. "Here I am playing one of Chopin's greatest pieces, one that he taught me himself, and you want to go to an alien planet? Humans! You never appreciate the beauty of sound as much as you should."

Sighing, she stepped forward. "Scoot." The Doctor moved, giving her enough room to sit beside him on the piano stool. "Fine! _Impress me_."

He grinned goofily. "Liszt's Piano Sonata? Brahms' Rhapsody? Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto?"

"I dunno… Write me something. Write me a concerto," she said flippantly.

"A concerto? Ha. No, for you, a symphony." His mind immediately planned the first sixteen bars. "Ballad of Amelia," he said with affection. "It will be constantly moving, with crotchets and quavers; maybe the occasional minim, but not too many. A lot of semiquavers and even more demisemiquavers. No semibreves, they take too long. And _no_ rests. Never liked the sound of silence."

"O-kay," she said, clearly humouring him.

"Just you wait, Amelia Pond. Your song is going to be fast and vibrant and _alive_."

"That is all well and good, Doctor, but I would _really_ like to see a planet. A bit of history would be nice right about now."

"History?" He jumped from his seat and ran from the room. "A museum it is!"

Amy had run after him, then, confused. "I didn't mean a museum!"

That had been so many years ago. Before the Angels and River, plastic-Rory, a wedding and a Melody Pond. Before planets and suns, solar systems and galaxies, before he sent them away and brought them back.

Before Manhattan...

Amy's glasses perched low on his nose, his piano remaining untouched as he pieced together the sheet music he had torn in a fit of rage just after she was taken from him. He never did finish it. Something always got in the way: a planet to see, a person to save, a mystery to solve. The afterword she had written mocked him from beside his unfinished symphony, reminding him of all the things he wanted, and hadn't, shown her.

He would never again get the chance, because Amelia Pond's Song had ended, and it ended with a rest.

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**A/N2 - **There are still some spots left for the **Christmas Gift Giveaway**. Keep sending in those Doctor Who prompts!


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